Posted on

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Gorilla drove a truck. He couldn’t remember why people first started calling him Gorilla. He wasn’t especially hairy, though he had broad shoulders and could lug big weights. He carried a big stomach, but this was the product of way too many hours spent sitting in the cab driving the overnight interstate eating crap food. He had a tattoo sleeve on his right arm which extended across the top of his chest, and a smattering of tatts on his left arm and leg. He also had some amateur ink on the topside of his cock. He was so fucking drunk the night he got his dick tattooed. His cock was meaty. It was quite thick and had a good weight to it; not too small but also not overly large. The circumcised head of his dick was absolutely beautiful, especially when his cock was hard and oozing precum.

Gorilla was always on the lookout for hot, sweaty sex with men. Driving interstate rigs made sex easy to find. He used the apps, and hookups were close to anonymous. Cock was everywhere.

Tonight, Gorilla found himself driving into Atlanta. He’d been at the wheel for a long 13 hours since leaving Oklahoma City, driving through Memphis and Birmingham. A ridiculously long drive, almost inhumane. The sun had set, and his trucker cap no longer needed to keep the setting sun out of his eyes, so he turned it around and wore it backwards. It’d been a long haul, but he was paid well for it.

He was looking forward to a big meal and few hours of sleep before de-palleting at the warehouse tomorrow at dawn. He’d driven to Atlanta many times before, and by this stage in the drive, and despite the steady supply of no-doze pills he’d been chewing, he was almost on autopilot. He guided his wheels to a 24/7 gas station and parked the rig near the diesel pumps. This would be home for the night. His air-brakes sounded. His full balls hung low inside his denim jeans.

He smeared some cheap deodorant under his armpits to make himself slightly more presentable, but he knew it was like putting lipstick on a pig. He was a mess, and he knew it, but he was hungry as fuck. He climbed down out of the rig and walked into the roadhouse next door. He’d been here before, and he barely needed to bother with the menu. He knew what it said. He wanted red meat. He ordered steak. Well done, thanks ma’am. Side of potatoes and greenbeans, please. And a beer. His 42 wheels would be parked until sunrise.

Gorilla was thirsty. The beer arrived quickly and half of it disappeared in a few quick gulps. His meal, as usual at this roadhouse, was excellent. He had another beer while he was eating.

At the end of the meal, he paid his check and left a tip for the waitress. He exited the roadhouse and started to head back to the bunk in his rig for some well-earned shuteye. But first, he needed to take care of business — he needed to use the bathroom.

The bathroom was a stand-alone block halfway between the roadhouse and where he’d parked. It was small, and somewhat stinky. The air felt stale and fetid. There was only one cubicle.

Gorilla entered the bathroom and noticed that the cubicle door had been ripped off its hinges since he was last in Atlanta. Fuck. He really needed to take a dump.

He pulled his jeans down and they collected around his ankles. Nature took its course.

*

Carlos was a sexy Mexican dude who sang lead vocals and played guitar in a heavy metal band in Atlanta. He had the desired look down to perfection: long, wavy brown hair, black t-shirt, denim jacket, dark Latin eyes and a skinny build. White socks inside black skater shoes. Slightly feminine, but not too much.

Carlos was a showman. He loved nothing more than being on stage, covered in sweat under the bright stagelights, knowing that every pair of eyes in the room were fixated on him. He was sexy as fuck, and he knew it, but none of the women in the room could ever have him. He wasn’t interested in them. He was only interested in men. Often, during his band’s set, he’d try to pick out a sexy denim-clad dude in the front row and hold his gaze for just long enough to suggest what might be possible later that night, if only. He knew he had a sexy pout and a long tongue, both of which helped to get his bait on the line when catching his front row prey.

He’d been at band rehearsal earlier tonight. After they’d finished, he went out drinking with his bandmates, and the beers had gone down well. He was walking home with his earbuds in, Slayer shredding his eardrums. He passed by a roadhouse, playing air-guitar as he walked, and realised he desperately needed a piss. He saw the bathroom and went in.

*

Gorilla heard the bathroom door open, and the footsteps that followed. He heard someone approach the urinal. He heard someone unzip, and he listened as a thick stream of beery piss cascaded down. Gorilla remained motionless and silent inside the doorless cubicle. He wondered if sex might be in the air. Gorilla’s trucker cap was firmly in place, backwards.

Carlos had no idea he had company. He shook his Ankara escort smallish cock, packed it back into his boxer shorts, zipped up, and walked over to the basin to wash his hands. He was ignoring everything else. Slayer was still assaulting his ears, and he wasn’t home yet. Looking into the cracked, stained mirror above the washbasin, he saw Gorilla in the cubicle, sitting on the bowl. He wondered why someone would be taking a shit with the door open, and he was surprised to note that there *was* no door on the cubicle.

Carlos saw Gorilla’s fat cock resting heavily on the front of the toilet seat. Gorilla’s hand reached down and touched his thick semi-erect dick. He lifted it up and let it slap back down onto the seat with a thud. He leered at Carlos, as if to say ‘hey, stranger, do you want it?’

The air thickened.

*

Carlos was attracted to men, and here was a man, a real working man, in all his glory. Even from this distance, Gorilla smelled ripe — the result of a long day at the wheel, combined with the stink of a public restroom.

Carlos was accustomed to being the centre of attention. He was a fucking rockstar, even if only in Atlanta. Until now, he always picked who he wanted to fuck. But the tables were turned. He was potential prey.

He was standing in front of a man who was sitting on a toilet bowl, pants around his ankles, fat dick on full display.

Carlos took his earbuds out and Slayer was silenced. He felt a ringing in his ears. Could’ve been tinnitus, could’ve been the sudden ambient silence in a room filled with thick air; but most probably it was the blood rushing violently through his brain at the scent of sex.

Carlos didn’t take any backward steps, but at the same time, he didn’t want to seem too eager. He took a single step forward towards the cubicle. They’d recognised each other’s presence and Gorilla was first to speak.

“Hey, boy. Nice to meet you. How’s your evening?”

Carlos wasn’t sure how to respond. “Hey, man. Just had a few beers with my bandmates, and needed a piss on the way home. What about you?”

“Oh, so you’re in a band?” asked Gorilla. “Nice. What do you play?”

“Axe and lead vocals.”

“Cool.” Gorilla really couldn’t give a shit. “I’ve had a long fuckin’ day at the wheel, son. Bein’ paid to cart some crap from Walmart A to Walmart B. Just had a big feed. Right now, I’m just takin’ a dump.” Gorilla noticed the long-haired stud glanced down at his crotch. “So what you looking at, boy?” Gorilla lifted his tattooed dick up again, and he let it fall against the toilet seat with a thud. “You like my dick, don’t you?”

Carlos’s mouth was dry with anxiety. He wanted that cock. He nothing more than to sink to his knees, but in this unusual moment, nervousness won out. He found himself apologising. “Sir, I seem to have caught you at a bad moment, and…”

“Shut up, boy.” Gorilla cut him off.

“Um, what?” Carlos started fidgeting with his bracelets that dangled underneath his denim jacket.

“I said, shut the fuck up, son.”

Carlos’s mouth started watering.

“Answer my question,” insisted Gorilla.

“Umm… what question?”

“You like my dick, don’t you, boy?”

Carlos gulped. “Yes, sir. Yes, I do.”

*

There was silence for just a few seconds.

Carlos was standing. He wanted Gorilla’s cock, but he was hyper-aware that the situation was volatile. He could’ve fled for the door, pretending none of this never happened. Actually, he didn’t even need to flee, he could’ve just casually walked out. Gorilla was still sitting on the bowl with his denim pooled around his ankles. If retreat was the option of choice, Carlos held all the cards. He could just turn around and leave. Relaunch Slayer and keep walking home. Physically, Gorilla was in the weaker position. But psychologically, Gorilla was already in charge, and Carlos knew it.

All Carlos wanted when he first walked into the bathroom was to take a piss. But all he wanted right now was to wrap his mouth around Gorilla’s fat dick.

“Get over here, boy.”

Until now, Carlos had always called the shots when it came to sex. Carlos had sucked a handful of dicks before, but sucking dick was never high on the list of his own sexual priorities — the guy had to be exceptionally cute for him to even offer. He’d eaten his own cum a few times after jerking off, mainly out of curiosity just to see what the fuss was about, but he didn’t enjoy it, and he didn’t find it especially tasty. He was never interested in eating anyone else’s either, so on the rare occasions he sucked someone off, he always made sure to jerk them to climax well away from his face.

Carlos knew he might appear slightly feminine to most people, but in the sack, he was a total top. He liked to fuck men, and he’d never been fucked — his own pussy was still virgin. He was always on the lookout for bottoms at his gigs, and ultra-tight jeans were usually a dead giveaway. He didn’t have a particularly Ankara escort bayan big dick, but he sure as fuck knew how to use it, and he was more than confident in his skills.

But then again, never in his life had he been confronted, in a situation like this, by a man like Gorilla.

Carlos looked at the man sitting on the toilet seat. He drank in Gorilla’s sexy tattoos, his redneck stubble and his backwards-facing trucker cap. He’d always thought of himself as sexually dominant, but in this moment, looking at Gorilla, he wondered if that was really true. He felt a twitching, a kind of aching, in his anus that he’d never felt before.

A rig pulled into the lot next to the roadhouse and parked. The air-brakes hissed. They both heard it.

Gorilla’s ass was warming the toilet seat, but his mind was a blur of the no-doze pills still in his system, augmented by a couple of beers at the roadhouse and a chronic lack of sleep. The pills were like tiny acupuncture needles teasing his crotch. He needed to get off. He wouldn’t sleep if he didn’t, and he knew he had a load of freight to deliver first thing tomorrow morning. He could always go back to the bunk in his rig and jerk off, but the possibilities in the men’s room were shaping up to be significantly better and much more interesting.

“I know you want my cock. Get over here, boy. I’m not gonna ask you again, cunt.” Carlos could see the outlines of the smallish amateur tattoo on the top of Gorilla’s shaft. The stench of Gorilla’s crotch was unbelievable, yet utterly intoxicating.

Gorilla continued. “Just had a beer or two after a long day. I was pretty thirsty. How thirsty are you right now?”

Carlos wasn’t quite sure what he meant.

Gorilla sneered. “We’re in a fuckin’ mens room, bud. Ain’t nobody else here.”

Carlos was completely consumed with cocklust. Never in his life had he wanted a dick in his mouth more than now. He tied his sexy metal-god hair into a rough ponytail. “I’ll suck your dick, man, but that’s it.”

Gorilla conceded the battle in the hope of winning the war. He had other things in mind for this skinny local rockstar.

The air in the mens room was still rancid. Air quality deteriorated further as Gorilla reached into his pocket, pulled out a fat cigar, and lit up. He sat back down on the bowl.

“Come on, then, boy. Suck it.” He blew out a thick cloud of cigar smoke. Few things excited Gorilla as much as receiving blowjobs. He was born to fuck mouth.

Carlos got on his knees and the smell of Gorilla’s sweaty, unwashed balls was undeniable. He got to work. Gorilla was rock hard within seconds.

Carlos was incredibly turned on, yet at the same time he wanted to make Gorilla cum as quickly as possible so he could get the hell out of here. He got Gorilla’s shaft wet, then he sucked on his heavy, full balls while he jerked him off. His bracelets jangled as his wrist pistoned up and down.

It didn’t take long for Gorilla to growl. He thrust his hips up off the seat and fired thick streaks of hot semen all over Carlos’s face and hair. Most of Gorilla’s cum landed on Carlos’s cheek and tongue, but there were drops on the toilet seat. A pearl of Gorilla’s seed seeped out of the top of his dick. “Clean me up, boy.” Carlos obeyed, and licked up the last few remnants of warm cum from Gorilla’s thick meat. He tore off some toilet roll to clean his face, but he knew there was no way he was gonna get those streaks of trucker cum out of his hair without a hot shower.

“Mighty fine job there, son. You got me off good. But there’s one more thing I want you to do.” His cigar was still alight.

Carlos had tasted another man’s cum for the first time. He wouldn’t have said it was tasty, but at the same time he didn’t feel the need to spit in the sink or rinse his mouth out. Nonetheless, he was already looking forward to that shower. “I gotta get going, man.”

“You’re not going anywhere. At least, not just yet. There’s one more thing I want you to do. I want you to kiss my ass.”

Carlos was not interested. “No way, man. I’m not going there. You need a shower, and you just fucking came in my hair, so now I need one too.” He moved to put his earbuds back in and crank Slayer back up again. He was about to walk the rest of the way home with the taste of dominant trucker cum in his mouth. Or so he thought.

“My hole is as clean as it gets, slut. And I want you to eat it.”

*

Carlos occasionally ate ass, but only really ever as a prelude to sinking his dick in it. The dudes he brought home after gigs were normally as sweaty as fuck from a night in the moshpit, but Carlos always insisted on a bit of cleanup in the anal area before sex. Recently he’d even started keeping a pack of wetwipes next to his bed, and he would ask his conquests to wipe their asses before before Carlos would put his tongue or his dick anywhere near their holes. To Carlos, wetwipes before anal were just as important as condoms during. Escort Ankara It meant that eating ass always came with a slight chemical smell, but Carlos preferred that to the alternatives. And it was only ever just to get the guy moaning and a little lubricated before he fucked him.

In this specific situation, at least two things were different. First of all, there were no wetwipes, it was a fucking miracle there was even any toilet paper in the cubicle. And secondly, Gorilla didn’t strike Carlos as the kind of dude who took dick, so he couldn’t see the purpose of eating his ass.

Gorilla stood up. He faced Carlos and discovered he was slightly taller than him. His pants were still around his ankles. “Kiss my hole, boy.” He turned to face the bowl, bent over slightly, and parted his cheeks. He sucked on his cigar.

Carlos noticed Gorilla had a fat, juicy ass, probably fat from too many long hauls at the wheel. In different circumstances, he probably would’ve loved to fuck it, but only after it was clean. Under no other circumstances would he ever contemplate putting his face between a pair of stinky unwashed cheeks, but he was mesmerised by this man and his demands.

“Get in there, boy. Eat it. I want you to bury your tongue in my anus.”

Carlos thought he was gonna need to wash his face for a week after this, but Gorilla seemed to have some kind of alphapsychosexual hold over him. He obeyed. He got on his knees again, discovering that his face was the perfect height to meet Gorilla’s plump ass.

He started with some butterfly kisses while kneading Gorilla’s cheeks, and he noticed Gorilla’s breathing deepened and slowed, a sure sign he was enjoying the attention. The blood flowed back into Gorilla’s dick. “Yeah, boy, that’s it.” He grunted. Gorilla spread his cheeks wider, and Carlos started French-kissing his hole. Gorilla moaned and growled as the nerve-endings in his anus tingled and fired. His cock was rock hard again.

Footsteps approached. Probably the driver of the rig who parked a few minutes ago. They were about to be interrupted.

Gorilla hitched up his jeans and zipped up. Carlos stood up and tried to look as normal as he possibly could, not an easy task considering mere seconds ago he’d had his mouth buried in a stranger’s musty ass and probably still had stray streaks of cum on his face.

Before the driver entered the mens room, Gorilla leered into Carlos’s face. “I gotta fuck you, son, I really gotta fuck you… truck’s over there.” He dropped his cigar into the bowl and it hissed.

Carlos had two obvious choices. The first was to go home and shower off. The taste of Gorilla’s cum in his mouth had been replaced by the taste of his stale buttcrack, and he knew Gorilla’s musky scent was all over his face. The other was to follow this man. He strongly suspected that if he stepped inside Gorilla’s rig, his anal cherry was history. But Carlos couldn’t deny how horny he felt right now. He’d been used and abused, and in this moment, he wasn’t satisfied. He wanted more. He hadn’t cum yet.

He followed Gorilla, walking about ten yards behind him. He was pretty sure what he was about to get into. He knew he was about to get railed for the first time. He knew he was about to lose his anal virginity.

Gorilla unlocked his rig, opened the door and stepped up into the sleeping area. Carlos followed.

*

There was no intimacy.

There was no kissing.

There was no foreplay.

This was all about two horny strangers, about to fuck. They didn’t even know each other’s name.

Gorilla spat on his hand and violently jammed it down the back of Carlos’s pants, finding his mancrack, trying to lube up Carlos’s hole. He missed the target, so he withdrew his hand, spat again, and reinserted. Still missed.

“Pull your pants down, boy. I need to lube up your pussy.”

Carlos obeyed, and bent over slightly to allow easier access. Gorilla spat on his hand again, and this time he was able to smear his saliva all over Carlos’s virgin pussy. Carlos moaned. His sexy cum-streaked rockstar hair was still tied in a ponytail. He bent over onto Gorilla’s bunk and went down on all-fours fully to allow Gorilla to get inside him. He had no idea whether Gorilla was wearing a condom or not, but he suspected he wasn’t. He was right: he wasn’t.

Carlos was tight as fuck. Nothing had ever been in there, other than a finger or two of his own. He didn’t own any dildos or vibrators, so he had no real idea of what it felt like to have his cheeks opened and his hole stretched by a big dick. Luckily for Carlos, Gorilla didn’t have an overly huge piece of meat, but it was pretty thick, and its thickness presented a problem.

“Fucking relax, boy. Breathe deep,” Gorilla said.

Carlos was honest. “I’ve never done this before. You’re my first. Be gentle.”

Carlos might’ve expected Gorilla to respond to this in some way, but Gorilla didn’t really care. He just wanted to get off. And the word ‘gentle’ was not in his vocabulary.

Carlos took a deep breath as Gorilla thrusted forward. His asshole was screaming. There wasn’t enough lubrication. Gorilla spat on the topside of his shaft, and it landed on his dick tattoo. He smeared it around, thrust forward again, and this time he got most of the way in.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Bir yanıt yazın

E-posta adresiniz yayınlanmayacak. Gerekli alanlar * ile işaretlenmişlerdir